


unacceptable, your majesty

by kurooos



Series: nsfw promptis week 2018 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, M/M, Military Uniforms, Noctis Lucis Caelum Lives, Noctis is a gross man even after he's grown up, Older Noctis Lucis Caelum, Older Prompto Argentum, Post-Canon, Power Dynamics, Semi-Public Sex, Uniform Kink, implied ot4 but it's a blink and you'll miss it thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 09:05:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17261429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurooos/pseuds/kurooos
Summary: After their first official meeting, Noctis needs to have a "talk" with Prompto about his Kingsglaive regalia.





	unacceptable, your majesty

**Author's Note:**

> Promptis 2018 NSFW Week Day 7: Rough Sex, First Times, “I know this is totally not the right time, but you look so hot right now.”
> 
> First times- Noctis seeing Prompto for the first time in his Kingsglaive uniform.

The sun shone again at Ardyn’s defeat, bringing with it hope and many welcome changes.

Changes to even the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive. His father before him only ever held meetings and councils with those close to him. Those that held the highest positions in the Citadel had representatives sent to discuss matters officially. It worked, but it felt too distant and arms-length.

Noctis crowned Ignis not just as his royal advisor but also as the man who headed and looked over essentially all of the activities of the Citadel. He’s crowned Gladiolus as the head of the Crownsguard. And Prompto becomes the captain of the Kingsglaive.

And it’s fine for a while. They don’t have any meetings afterwards and they hardly see each other except in passing. All four of them are so _busy_. They have to fix the damage left over from the darkness of Ardyn’s rule.

But it’s expected that all the divisions of the Crown meet and discuss the progress of everything happening so they can bring it all together. It’s also a time to invite their neighboring commanders and make plans as well.

It just so happens that it’s Noctis’ first time seeing Prompto is his royal uniform in the well lit meeting rooms off the side of the throne room. He has assumed that with so many years passed, he has no more firsts to have. Prompto still proves him wrong.

The blonde is leaned off to the side, smiling brightly, chatting to the woman that now runs the affairs in Accordo, she’s younger than them but sharp as a tack and beautiful. They look quite similar, and she can very easily pass for Prompto’s daughter.

However, age does nothing to Prompto’s flirtatious smiles and bad jokes. If anything, the worn lines that makes him rugged around the edges makes him hotter. At least Noctis thinks so. _Especially_ thanks to the fact his raiment bulks his shoulders. Noctis is constantly reminded of how much Prompto’s grown, no longer the skinny, thin boy that joined their adventure so long ago.

Unfortunately, once the meeting starts, Noctis can hardly pay Prompto more attention than necessary. He’s the _King_ so he has to be as involved as possible and he’s thankful that Prompto doesn’t try to play around during.

Were they ten years younger, Prompto would have nervously fidgeted until someone made a comment on it or he would have rambled on during a debriefing. But instead, his voice is calm and his hands only ever move to pick up papers and he sits still when he’s not actually speaking. It makes Noctis strangely proud but also nostalgic for their teengaer days.

In no time the meeting is over, Noctis shaking hands and nodding people out of the room until it’s just himself, Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis.

The doors shut and he shakes Ignis’ hand longer than necessary, their hands on each others arms until they meet for a hug. The same goes for Gladio before he pats him hard on the shoulders and slips out of the room. They both say their goodbyes to Prompto with knowing looks and finally, _finally_ they’re alone.

Noctis bites off a groan when Prompto lounges against the table edge, ass half seated on it and his ankles crossed while he uses his arms behind him for balance.

“I’m assuming you’re blocking my exit because we still have things to discuss, Your Majesty?” he asks cutely, a sly tip of his head as if he’s trying to play innocent. Noctis mutters a harsh curse under his breath before marching over to Prompto and shoving him up on the table.

His laugh is full of mirth and it’s exactly what Noctis wanted to hear after a monotonous three hours of talking and planning and drafting documents.

Noctis groans, trying to shove the jacket off Prompto’s shoulders only to have to deal with what seems like a hundred stupid buttons in his way.

He thinks to himself: _I’ve made a terrible, awful mistake of keeping these uniforms._

Prompto laughs again, but this time he sounds a little unsure and even though his eyes are bright and wild, he looks at the door with concern.

“Dude are you really sure this is the best place to- ah!”

Noctis gets tired of trying to undress Prompto and flips him around, bending him at the hips to sprawl on the hard stone. This, Noctis knows how to do.

“I know this isn’t the right time, but Astrals, you look so hot right now.”

The pants come free with a heavy metal buckle and zipper and he finally gets to have Prompto’s ass in all it’s, still wonderfully perky, glory.

His thumbs pull Prompto’s cheeks apart and he sets to work getting his tongue over every smooth inch of him. Prompto’s voice has gotten a bit lower in their years, but his moans are still beautiful when Noctis’ tongue rolls up his perineum and over his hole. He can still taste the soap on his skin where Prompto showered, probably immediately before the meeting.

He reaches a hand back and Noctis is prepared to fight to keep eating him out if Prompto ends up pushing, but he just grabs a messy clutch of Noctis’ hair and tugs, shoulders trembling when he moans again.

Noctis presses in more at the silent request, jaw already aching as he curls his tongue inside. Prompto relaxes against the table, noises quiet and muffled into his arm when Noctis starts to press his fingers in along with his tongue. Prompto’s hot, almost dizzy with the pleasure and he wouldn’t mind taking this for a few hours.

But Noctis can only take so much more before the ache in his cock takes priority and he _needs_ -

“Noctis, _please_.” Prompto whines against the stone table, hips wiggling when he shifts on his feet to assume a wider stance.

Noctis comes back up with some difficulty. He’s not young and lithe anymore and his knee starts to lock up if he stays on the floor longer than a minute. He’s got to use the table for support but Prompto doesn’t comment on it.

No, neither of them comment because they’re too focused on Noctis spitting into his fingers and rubbing the head of his cock up against Prompto’s hole. He doesn’t have to push hard to slip inside.

They both bite out a groan and one of Prompto’s hands shoots back to grab him at the hip, fingers bunching up the regalia cape clipped against his shoulders.

“Slow,” he gasps, eyelashes fluttering when Noctis rolls into him just as he asks. Prompto mutters the word again, caught up on a moan as Noctis slides in further until they’re firmly pressed together.

Noctis can’t take up a punishingly fast pace like how he used to. Nights on the run in a tent were days where they could fuck around quick and roll with the rest of the day. But now they’re weathered and their stamina isn’t like how it used to be.

Not that Noctis can’t still absolutely blow Prompto’s mind, no of course not. He knows the man inside and out, knows exactly where to grind to have Prompto screaming for his king, deep moans tumbling out against the table.

They can take it as slow as they want. Noctis doesn’t care if the guards that are posted outside can hear them. His and Prompto’s relationship isn’t exactly something they’re keeping a secret, but they also aren’t broadcasting it to the kingdom either. Some know and some don’t. Noctis doesn’t care. He’s happy and no one is questioning his ability to run the kingdom.

Prompto laughs under him, breathless and eyes bright when Noctis finally snaps out of his thoughts and looks down at him. He pushes a hand up Prompto’s spine, shoving his clothes up to his shoulders.

“And what is so funny?” he demands, making sure to thrust a little harder, keeping it slow, but now each thrust is noisy, filling the empty space between their breaths and quiet noises.

“I can hear you thinking. About something- mmh- sappy-” Prompto cuts off with another moan, expression twisting into something sweeter. Noctis keeps that angle to hit again and Prompto’s giggling fades out.

“Forgive me,” he teases, “I was just remembering how easy it was to get you to cum for me.”

Prompto rolls his eyes, shifting around so Noctis can’t see his face, now turned down against the table.

“You still can. Quit thinking about the past and fuck the present me.” Prompto mumbles against the table. Noctis admires the flush rising up on the back of Prompto’s neck.

“Bossy.”

Noctis leaves it at that. He slips his hand around to Prompto’s chest, fingers playing at the hardened nubs of his nipples before pulling him up against himself.

Prompto goes easily, leaning back into Noctis with a sigh, hands resting on the table to support himself. When Noctis gets his other hand around Prompto’s cock he gasps, reaching down to grab at his wrist, just as quickly pulling away and putting his hands back on the table.

His catch has Noctis smiling against the warmth of his skin at the back of his neck, whispering praise against the shell of his ear. He’s not allowed to touch what is the King’s without permission.

All it takes is Noctis grinding in slow and deep to get Prompto shaking, voice weak on his next moan.

“Please, may I cum, Your Majesty?”

Prompto whines, bumping his hips back. Noctis grunts, tugging at the back of Prompto’s uniform.

“You’ll wait until I tell you.” He whispers low against Prompto’s ear, following it over with his tongue. He lets out a sigh when Prompto gets tighter around him. It won’t take long if they keep  this up.

Noctis brings his hand over Prompto’s chest down further until he’s stroking Prompto’s cock in time with his slow thrusts. Prompto doesn’t argue with him anymore after that. Noctis rests his head into the side of Prompto’s occasionally pressing a kiss to his jaw or temple, groaning when Prompto tightens up or shifts on his feet.

Their moans grow clipped the closer they both und up to the edge, and where Noctis would usually tease and make Prompto beg, he sighs his permission into the soft curve of Prompto’s neck before sucking a bruise there.

“Oh gods-” Prompto chokes, legs shaking before he grasps the edge of the table and hovering fingers reach for Noctis’ wrist. His pulse jumps when he cums, ropes of pearly white standing out dramatically on the black grey slab of stone.

Noctis thrusts slow down when his own cock jerks. He pulls out slow, not in time as the first pulse comes. The rest lands in his fingers, messy and hot but kept off Prompto’s uniform.

Prompto folds over, hands on the table as he catches his breath, his head dipped between his shoulders. Noctis would like to settle in behind him and kiss sensitive skin until Prompto’s head clears up, but he quite literally has a handful of cum and now that it’s cooling it’s getting gross.

“Hey, let’s go wash up before someone tries to shake my hand.”  Noctis grins, splitting wider when Prompto looks back at him with confusion and then twisting into a laugh.

“Dude, that’s so gross.”

“You’re telling me.”

Prompto stands up straight, pulling his pants back up, fixing the buckles, and Noctis follows his example with his cleaner hand. Noctis is just thankful they have a set of washrooms down the hall, much closer than heading to his bedroom.

Noctis holds his hand out with an expectant look.

“I am _not_ holding your hand.”

They start walking, out the doors and past the guards. They’re Glaive, and Prompto addresses them both by name as if they weren’t just listening to their Captain screaming behind those doors. They both seem a little red in the face.

Prompto is distracted enough and Noctis grabs Prompto’s hand quickly and tugs him away from his starting a conversation. Prompto’s entire demeanor shifts and he cringes while trying to pull away from their wetly intertwined fingers.

“ _Augh_ , Noctis!”

**Author's Note:**

> Noctis why.... _why_
> 
> I had no beta and this has been sitting in my wip folder for months. So sorry yall.


End file.
